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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27131179">At The Stroke of Midnight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrieMaxwell/pseuds/CarrieMaxwell'>CarrieMaxwell</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hogwart Drabbler: short stories no one asked for [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Apologies, Cinderella Elements, Dancing, Disney References, F/M, Forgiveness, New Years Eve Kiss, Second Chance, Transfiguration (Harry Potter), Yule Ball, cinderella Hermione, dramione - Freeform, fairy godmother Luna, hermione's periwinkle gown, hermione's pink gown, mean Patil sisters, mistletoe kiss, prince charming Draco</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:41:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27131179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrieMaxwell/pseuds/CarrieMaxwell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Cinderella like night for Hermione when the jealous Patil sisters rip apart her dress and hide her wand to prevent her from attending the Yule Ball. Devastated, she hides in the Gryffindor tower where Luna finds her and transfigures her rags into a ball gown and glamorizes her so she can attend in disguise. </p><p>Seeing Krum stood up by his mystery date, Draco sends Pansy his way so he isn’t made a fool in front of the whole school and is about to slink out when he bumps into a mysterious girl lingering in the doorway, almost afraid to enter…</p><p>He offers his hand for a dance…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Hogwart Drabbler: short stories no one asked for [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>At The Stroke of Midnight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She couldn’t believe it.</p><p> </p><p>She thought they were her friends, one being her roommate after all. But jealousy was an ugly beast that lived within the heart of many a girl at Hogwarts. Especially when they discovered that the Durmstrang Champion had asked for her out of all the girls available, to be his date for the evening.</p><p>It was enough to make some true colors rise to the surface.</p><p>Clumsily, Harry Potter had approached Parvati Patil, and even though he was one of the four champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he wasn’t exactly a catch. His glasses were usually either broken or smudgy, he was lousy at potions and charms, and he more often was tardy to class with his necktie askew. He had no class compared to the likes of the finely educated on etiquette like the purebloods in Slytherin. She’d take Theodore Nott or Draco Malfoy any day over Potter, but perhaps being on the arm of a champion wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.</p><p>If Harry Potter ranked low on the scale of attractive or eligible wizards according to the Patil twins, then Ronald Weasley was even lower. The girls joked that even Neville Longbottom was a better date to have than Weasley, even though both were of the Sacred 28. But Padma was not to be outdone by her Gryffindor sister, and after watching Harry stumble through a half-arsed invitation to the ball, she’d all but jumped at Ron the moment he stepped up to her. He might not be a Champion or even the Boy-Who-Lived but he was better than no one at all, and if he was asking her then that meant he wasn’t asking Granger.</p><p>The sisters snickered together that they’d bagged the two potential dates that the bushy haired swot would’ve attended with and felt certain that she didn’t even have Longbottom to fall back on since he was apparently going with little Ginny Weasley. For once, an event where she either wouldn’t be there to ruin it by blathering on every little fact she knew, or ignoring it completely with a book in hand and being an embarrassment.</p><p>But she’d come up to them in a flurry of excitement, cheeks flushed and hair flying about, exclaiming that famed Bulgarian Quidditch seeker Viktor Krum had purposely sought her out in the library and asked her to the dance! She was so excited, her first dance! A wizard’s ball!</p><p>And she had just the dress for it too, her mother had given it to her as a birthday gift just three months prior, sent in by messenger owl and arrived on time. She tore into the package with vigor, breath in her throat at the rows of pink taffeta and the card signed by both parents. Her mother’s junior prom gown, now outdated but retro enough to be accepted as trending in the event that her now fifteen year old daughter might have a date or two. Alongside it was a pair of teal teardrop shaped crystal earrings that were pretty enough to catch the light and thus attention.</p><p>So it was Parvati with the big idea for once, whispering her dark thoughts to her twin, unable to handle being outdone yet again by that damned Granger girl. Waiting until Lavender had already left and signaling for Padma under the guise of helping the hapless muggleborn with her hair and makeup, Parvati hid the girl’s wand. Hermione never suspected a thing as she accepted the assistance of the sisters.</p><p>All that changed in a heartbeat as they were gathered at the Gryffindor entrance, Padma checking the hallway to see if the coast was clear before pushing Hermione full on in the chest, sending her back in through to the common room and into her sister’s waiting arms. With horrifying speed and vindictiveness, each sister grabbed fistfuls of the vintage prom dress and yanked-hard. The tulle and taffeta shredded in their grasp, unravelling like a loose thread on a crocheted blanket. One ripped at her top, catching the seam with sharp fingernails and undoing one whole sleeve. They screamed the entire time, hurling pitiful insults from their insecure hearts, spitting vitriol at her audacity to even think she should attend such a prestigious event, and how she wasn’t worthy of the attentions of Viktor Krum.</p><p>They left her shattered in shambles, dropped to her knees in defeat at the ruined dress and the betrayal she never expected, laughing as they left, not even noticing the quiet and often overlooked form of pale-haired Luna Lovegood who was coming from the Ravenclaw tower to drop off a copy of The Quibbler for her friend Ginny to read later on. In their jovial exit, they hadn’t seen to closing the portrait door all the way shut, and as Luna got closer she heard dreadful cries as the sister’s laughter echoed into silence in their decent down the stairs.</p><p>The devastation was evident as torn strips of pink material lay in jagged pieces, circling Hermione’s distraught form as she held her face in her hands, wiping at her eyes, startled by the gentle touch of the younger girls’ hand on her shoulder. Luna even collected a stray earring that had flown loose from her ear in the struggle. Surprised that they’re clip-ons, she would’ve thought that Hermione had pierced ones.</p><p>“You shouldn’t let them get away with this.” She stated. “Those jealous cows have messed with the wrong witch.”</p><p>“Tonight they win. Tomorrow I can go to the Headmaster.”</p><p>“You still deserve to go to the ball.” Luna said firmly, taking her friend’s arm and pulling her to her feet. “Now hold still, I’m still getting the knack of this.” She pulled out her wand and swirled it in the air a few times. “Oh what was that spell again? Oh right, Salagadoola mechicka boola, Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!”</p><p>“What the heck was that?” Hermione cried at the weird incantation as magic sparkled in the air around her.</p><p>“It’ll do magic, believe it or not.” Luna beamed with pride, watching she the torn bits flew back up to meet the jagged edges they once were torn from. “Make it blue.” She concluded, dabbing her wand at the fabric and the dress transformed from the dusty rose to a soft periwinkle.</p><p>But now the shoes didn’t match the gown.</p><p>“Let me see your other earring.” The fey little blonde commanded, holding her hand out. Hermione obediently handed over her remaining crystal teardrop. “I’ve always wanted to try this.” With another swish the two little gleaming aquamarine dacrocytes morphed brilliantly into a pair of dancing slippers.</p><p>She tapped Hermione’s signature brunette curls and brightened them to blonde, with pleasant streaks of periwinkle to match her dress and cast a small color change charm to her honey brown eyes, turning them midnight blue. “Now no one should recognize you, and you’ll be able to dance freely. You leave the Patil sister’s to me, after all, my father runs his own magazine and I’m sure an expose of the twin’s dubious nature will be quite the read.”</p><p>Hermione was pleasantly taken back by the feral gleam in the young girl’s eyes as she spoke gleefully of reaping what the twins had sewn. They definitely had messed with the wrong witch.</p><p>“Now while this looks amazing and all, unfortunately it won’t last. I’d say you’ve got about until midnight until it wears off so make sure you’re out of there by then.”</p><p>“Thank you Luna. You truly are a fairy godmother, coming to my aid like this.”</p><p>Luna cocked her head to the side. “Does doing a good deed automatically grant me fairy wings and authority over your person?”</p><p>Hermione chuckled, needing the laugh her curious expression gave her. Sliding her feet into the oddly comfortable smooth and cool crystal footwear she did a little spin to get a feel for the entire outfit. For a moment, she forgot the woes that brought her friend to her side. Trepidation settled into her bones once she stepped over the Gryffindor threshold, Luna following a beat behind. What if the glamor didn’t work well enough and they caught her? Now that she was disguised, she couldn’t go up to anyone she knew and start talking with them. And Viktor? He’d be left on his own, probably believing she’d abandoned him.</p><p>“Hermione, breathe love.” Luna instructed. “Go have fun or I’ll jinx those slippers to dance with or without your consent.” With a playful wiggle of her fingers, she prompted the glammed witch into movement, scurrying down the hall and the stairwell towards the Great Hall for the evening.<br/>……………………</p><p>Soft instrumental music floated through the air as students began milling about before the official commencement of the dance. Many were wallflowers, holding disposable goblets of punch and laughing with friends, waiting for others to arrive, some had already laid claim to a table with robes resting on the backs of chairs and tiny plates stacked with h'orderves and more goblets of punch.</p><p>As one of the four champions, Viktor was standing with the other three and their dates, remaining stoic and nonplussed as he knew girls took their time in primping for special occasions. His date was a relatively shy girl who seemed completely unaffected by the arrival of two dozen new students for this school year and his famed reputation as one of the best and youngest seekers in Quidditch history. And she happened to be friends with the additional champion, Harry Potter. He looked over his shoulder once more and was met with a sympathetic shrug and head shake. Harry couldn’t explain his friend’s uncharacteristic absence. Parvati merely gripped his arm and nuzzled her head against his shoulder with an ever-so-pleased smile on her face.</p><p>Cedric Diggory, with his raven-haired Ravenclaw girlfriend, and Fleur Delacour on the arm of Roger Davies exchanged sympathetic glances as well. His date needed to arrive so they could start off the dance. McGonagall and Dumbledore even went so far to delay the arrival of Krum’s absentee date with a lovely light-hearted spur-of-the-moment speech but just as the crowd started getting restless and they couldn’t find a reason to stall any longer, a small hand tapped Viktor on his arm and a head of dark hair whispered into his ear.</p><p>He nodded and stood straight, accepting the arm of Pansy Parkinson as he and the other champions led the Yule Ball with a winter waltz, perfectly synchronized to the cheery music. Although not his originally planned date, he made it appear as if she had been all along, stepping in line and smiling as any gentleman would. Harry knew though, and more often than not misstepped his own dance by focusing more on the Slytherin than his own date.<br/>……………………..</p><p>Draco and Pansy agreed to attend the dance together for the sake of formality. Their families were in good standing with each other and the prospect of marriage between the purebloods was in the works should the arrangement suit both families of the Sacred 28 line. Currently, the two teens were close friends and nothing more, trying not to force feelings that weren’t there or were just being slow to develop. It was a dance after all, not a marriage proposal. He was dressed in tailor fitted robes and looking every bit the dashing prince, and she was in her own bespoke ball gown in pastel pink, looking every part a princess in her own fairytale.</p><p>The Slytherins hosted the Durmstrang students at their table for meals, and in the two months of their arrival, he’d been closer to his Quidditch idol more than ever, even going so far to say they established a friendship. So it came to a chilling shock to find the seeker apparently being stood up by whoever his date was. If he was embarrassed-and how could he not be?-he didn’t show it, which garnered a bit more respect from the young Malfoy heir. But he couldn’t let it stand. This would look bad upon the Durmstrangs, and eventually back onto Hogwarts itself. The situation needed to be remedied, quickly.</p><p>“Pansy, go to Krum.” He nudged her. “We can’t let him be made a fool of.”</p><p>She knew full well the fragile weight of a reputation and how easily one could be destroyed by a simple act. With a nod to her friend, she set off, slowly approaching the larger built teen and using her blessed feminine charm and a white lie to get him to agree to accept her by proxy. There would be no lack of photo ops and reports of the gala, so she had no fear of her reputation being smudged. It would only increase her social standing to be seen on the arm of the Bulgarian. In essence they were both doing each other a favor.</p><p>He tucked his hands into his pockets and slipped further from the crowd to lean against a wall, taking in the grand scene. He saw Pottyhead and the Weasel, so where was Granger and why wasn’t she dancing with either one of her constant companions? Hell, even Crabbe and Goyle had Tracey and Millicent to dance with for the moment, surely the Gryffindor golden girl would appeal to someone? Unless she was so absorbed with a book in the library to even be aware the dance was underway.</p><p>Pity really, he had been betting that she’d either trip up a dance move or have a dress as outrageous as her hair. Looked like he’d be owing the galleons tonight rather than earning them. Without his favorite Gryffindor to tease he felt bored but put on a friendly face for onlookers to see. A scowl would only bring attention in this case. Now that the floor was taken, he sauntered over to the refreshment table and got a goblet of punch. His buddy Blaise slid up next to him and stealthily poured a little firewhiskey from his flask with practiced perfection.</p><p>Draco nodded his thanks and meandered towards the entrance doors, acting every bit the entertained teen that he wasn’t. For some reason, his heart just wasn’t in it. He let out a sigh just a flash of pale blue invaded his peripheral vision. Following it, he found the shyly peeping form of a light-haired girl in a periwinkle gown, streaks in her hair to match, peering from the edge of the doorway as if she shouldn’t even be there but too drawn in to stay away. She pulled a little at the skirt of her gown, revealing brilliantly faceted footwear that gleamed in the light.</p><p>Who was this beauty?</p><p>“Gatecrashing?” he asked, watching with delight as she yipped and shrank back into the shadow of the doorframe.</p><p>When she faced him he caught two deep sapphire eyes meeting his grey ones, and suddenly reacting as if she knew him with furrowed brows and a tightly pursed up mouth. Normally a face Granger would make when he’d insult her hair and she held back from retorting.</p><p>“What’s it to you Malfoy?” she snapped.</p><p>He blinked a few times. She certainly had a temper on her today!</p><p>She looked sad in the next minute, catching sight of Krum with Parkinson, her features scrunching up. Was she perhaps one of his many fangirls here, hoping to be asked last minute? He followed her gaze to the couple and then back to her.</p><p>“Krum’s date stood him up, so I let Pansy take up with him.” He said.</p><p>“I did not-” she blurted, then caught herself. “Know that…” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “That was surprisingly kind of you.”</p><p>He shrugged. “It’s Yule. I suppose I’m allowed even one day to be charitable.” He offered his goblet to her. “If you’re going to linger in the doorway, you won’t be having any fun tonight.”</p><p>It dawned on her then that her glamor was holding true if not even Draco Malfoy could suss out her identity. And if what he said was true, then he was actually doing a good deed for someone. His offer of the drink in his hand was a figurative olive branch and far too enticing to ignore. Curiosity piqued, she took the cup and gingerly sipped, feeling the warmth of the firewhiskey blend with the punch pleasantly glide down her throat and into her belly.</p><p>“Thought I knew every pretty witch in this school. Who are you?”</p><p>She nearly choked at the compliment and sputtered that it didn’t matter.</p><p>“You clearly know who I am.” He stated.</p><p>“Everyone knows who you are.” She replied with a so Granger-esque eye roll.</p><p>He chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.” As she handed him back the cup he reached past it and took hold of her wrist, delicately, but purposefully. “But I would like to know whom I’m asking to dance.”</p><p>Her heart stopped suddenly. Draco Malfoy, flirting? Being charming? Had Luna accidentally confounded her as well?</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>“Oh, so you are gatecrashing then? Not of age?” The dance was for fourth years and up, accommodating for Potter of course, but a few third year students had been given leeway if their date was a fourth year. “It’s just a dance. I promise I’ll be a gentleman.”</p><p>She wanted to snort with indignation and laugh. When had he ever?</p><p>But his grey eyes pierced right through her for a moment, and she undoubtedly felt his sincerity with every word. Given that this was probably the only time she’d ever get a firsthand taste of his good manners, she allowed him to gently pull her into the light of the transfixed ballroom and took the little cup away, tossing it behind in the direction of a rubbish bin without a backwards glance. It was unnerving to suddenly have the sole focus of those eyes upon her.</p><p>“If you won’t tell me your name, at least give me something to call you by.”</p><p>“C-crystal.” she choked out, hearing the telltale clink of her heel as it met the marble floor of the Great Hall.</p><p>“Crystal.” He repeated mulling it over his tongue. “It suits you.”</p><p>Finding an opening in the swirling vortex of dancers, Draco pulled the mystery witch up to his chest, placing his left hand delicately on her hip and gently supporting her left hand within his right before starting off. It surprised him that despite her nervous shaking, her feet fell into rhythm just as perfectly as he did and she matched his tempo. Obviously someone had taken lessons.</p><p>“Tell me, Crystal, which house are you in?”</p><p>“R-ravenclaw.” her throat tightened at the lie.</p><p>“Are you going to stutter with every answer you give?” he chuckled. “I won’t bite.”</p><p>“I bet you s-say that to all the girls.” she retorted, cursing herself for another stutter. What the hell was wrong with her? She never stuttered!</p><p>“Oh you wound me sweetheart.” He teased, still leading her effortlessly along. “I can be nice. Wouldn’t you say this fine example of frolicking be a nice gesture on my part? I hope you know how to pirouette...” he warned seconds before the dance required the action, leading her away and then pulling her back in with a second of her spinning 360 degrees before taking his hand once more.</p><p>“Excellent.” he praised warmly. “You dance well.”</p><p>She couldn’t help but feel the flush creep up her cheeks. She’d practiced diligently of course, but hearing Draco admit such a thing somehow made it all worth it. Before they’d realized it, one dance led to the next and another without pause. All through each dance, he’d peppered her with questions about her person only to be dodged entirely or vaguely answered. Nothing was given away that could be traced back to her.</p><p>It only made him more curious. Normally, he couldn’t get witches to shut up about themselves in their simpleminded attempts to impress. One of the main reasons he stuck with Pansy, they didn’t need to go through the song and dance since they’d known each other so long. But not this girl. Tight-lipped and guarded. She obviously had not come to the ball expecting to interact with him and he could only assume she was just shy.</p><p>The evening carried on without him taking either his eyes or hands off the girl who called herself Crystal. When they finally did take a breather from dancing, he wrapped her arm in his own in possessive gesture that clearly read he was not ready to part from her presence as he led her to the refreshment table to rehydrate. He kept his hold on her even with cup in hand, as if he were afraid the second she wasn’t tethered that she’d bolt.</p><p>And she’d thought about it.</p><p>But then again, she kinda liked the anonymity her glamor provided. No one was teasing her about being there, neither Patil sister was giving her the evil eye, and her companion for the night was being surprisingly pleasant…if only he’d let go of her….</p><p>“I really should be going soon…” she protested.</p><p>He chuckled. “Is there some other ball going on that I’m unaware of? What’s the big rush?”</p><p>“I’m sure y-you’d want a dance with your friends or s-someone…else.”</p><p>He turned to face her. “You’re stuttering again…Crystal.” He drawled. “You do that when you lie.”</p><p>Her eyes widened by several degrees. After three dances and a few shared words he could already find a tell? He was awfully observant when he really was inspired to be. But that was dangerous. And she needed to get away from him.</p><p>“Maybe I just need some fresh air.” She said noncommittally. There were other couples that had left the warm and welcoming glowing interior of the Great Hall for the brisk air of the winter night.</p><p>“One more dance then?” he bartered, leading her out onto the floor again. He hadn’t left her with much option to argue and she didn’t want to make a scene. Whisked across the dance floor once more, this dance she was unfamiliar with and did not anticipate all the many lifts required of the male partner. The first time his hands went at her waist and lifted her she froze, all the more to his delight for she caught that familiar smirk of his when he felt he had gained the upper hand. Her breath caught in her throat as he truly seemed to enjoy himself, as he’d never smiled in this manner to her knowledge until now.</p><p>When the dance reached its end, and they bowed to each other, she expected him to part ways with her there, so she could get her “fresh air” and he could continue dancing the night away, but again she’d misjudged him. Taking her hand and wrapping her arm with his, they made their exit from the Great Hall and around the bend that led to the courtyard. Many were calling it a night, milling about in the hallways and stairwells, finding alcoves and niches for a little snog before heading off to their dorms.</p><p>“You don’t have to walk me the entire way.” her proclamation died into a murmur.</p><p>“A gentleman does not abandon his date.” The Slytherin replied with every bit of his high society etiquette in place. She had no doubts of the tongue lashing that he’d endure if it ever was known to his parents that he’d failed in such an important part of his upbringing so she allowed his escorting. It had all become quite surreal for her tonight, almost like a dream.</p><p>A few warming charms had been set in place for couples to take a stroll in the courtyard, with enchanted lights and boughs of holly and smatterings of mistletoe to continue the ambiance of the holiday festivities. It would all be gone tomorrow, the castle’s Great Hall would be as it always was, and the only evidence of this night would be the memories and photographs taken. So students were taking advantage of the occasion to the full measure.</p><p>“Oh!” she gasped a little, seeing the sight of the decorated courtyard. It was truly a beautiful sight. The light dusting of snow falling naturally from the sky was just the touch of magic to make the evening unforgettable for the muggleborn witch. For a moment, she forgot the wizard on her arm and craned her neck upwards, just taken with the evening environment.</p><p>“You act like you’ve never been to a ball before.” He said. There was no mockery in his voice, just a mere observation.</p><p>“I haven’t.” she answered, turning back to him. “Thank you for showing me a wonderful time.”</p><p>Draco lifted her hand up to his mouth, his lips lifted in a smile as he placed a soft kiss along the ridge of her knuckles-knuckles that once made him bleed the year previous-and met her eyes with his own. “The pleasure is all mine.”</p><p>Hermione suddenly felt cold, the shiver that ran through her body not merely a product of the odd intense intimacy with her most despised rival, and her breath fogged out in a mist before her eyes. The warming charm had ended, as did the enchanted lights floating overhead. She pulled her hand out of his and wrapped them around her bare arms, rubbing them along her prickled skin to circulate her blood and keep her warm.</p><p>“Here.” He said, immediately shucking off his dress robe and flinging it around her shoulders, stepping into her personal space as he brought the collar around to meet at the front. “I guess that means it’s midnight.”</p><p>“M-midnight?” she chattered. “I have to go. Really.” She protested, stepping back from him. She was about to return the robe when she could feel the material of her dress shift. Her eyes widened in horror, she couldn’t lose the glamor in front of him! “Goodbye!”</p><p>“Wait,” he exclaimed, reaching a hand out to stop her. “Just tell me who you really are before you go.”</p><p>She shook her head fervently. “You wouldn’t like knowing that answer.”</p><p>“What, are you really a Hufflepuff instead?” he joked, trying to get any response from her.</p><p>“Don’t tease the Hufflepuffs.” She admonished, always rising to the defense of others, especially when someone like Malfoy was involved.</p><p>“Alright, alright.” he placated, hands up in mock surrender. “I don’t really mean it, it’s just a joke.”</p><p>“Jokes can hurt Malfoy. Now I need to leave.” She felt the shoes pinch at her toes, prompting her to do one last drastic act before fleeing. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, though. You made it worthwhile.”</p><p>He felt a touch of dampness against his cheek when she pulled away, seeing her eyes glisten for a second before she whirled away in the flurry of his black robe, and tinkling heels clinking against the stone flooring. There was an odd pang in his chest at the girl’s behavior and her parting words. Why was she crying though? The evening cold started seeping in through his dress shirt and he shivered, shuffling and rubbing his arms just the same as she did and glance down.</p><p>Curious, there was a scrap of pink fabric-in fact, a whole trail of them as he followed the path the mystery girl had taken, as if they had fallen off a torn dress as she ran into hiding. He collected them, certain that something was indeed wrong, hence the need for her to be glamoured beyond recognition. As he passed the entrance of the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall’s voice called out to him.</p><p>“Mister Malfoy, the curfew for the evening has begun, you should return to your dormitory.” She then noticed the pink bundle in his slightly shaking hands, seeing the blue tint to his lips, and felt the cold emitting from his person. “Has something happened?” she inquired with motherly concern.</p><p>“Something…I just don’t know what.” He answered, handing over the pink strips.</p><p>The Gryffindor head of house accepted the torn fabric strands and felt a chill course through her veins. These were obviously from a young girl’s dress. She had seen the young Malfoy dance only with a blonde-haired girl in a light blue dress, not in pink like Pansy’s. Before she could voice her concern over the girl, he spoke again.</p><p>“The girl I danced with, she claimed to be a Ravenclaw but I don’t know her name. And when the warming charm ended, I gave her my coat. Then she got panicked and ran away. When I followed, I found these. There’s no other way to explain it…but I think these are hers.”</p><p>‘Oh dear’ the matriarch thought bitterly, something indeed had happened. “Thank you lad, now you best be off. I’ll see to this matter personally.” She assured him. “I may have to call upon you for questioning later.”</p><p>“Of course.” he nodded, shuffling off. He may not get on well with the Transfiguration professor, but he knew something was wrong and the gentlemanly urge to see to a lady’s honor was stirring in his blood. It didn’t matter who the girl was; Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, hell even a Gryffindor. Showing up in a transfigured dress from one previously torn, refusing to give her identity, dashing off without a backwards glance…it was adding up to a result that didn’t sit well with him.<br/>………………………….</p><p>She was lucky that she didn’t run into anyone as she fled from the courtyard, away from Malfoy and the Great Hall and the beautiful memories of a night she more than likely would never have again. The dress fell apart around her, and the slippers shrank to an uncomfortable size that pinched her feet before she slipped out of them, collecting the teardrop earrings and absentmindedly set one in the pocket of the robe as she cocked her head to side to clip one onto her ear. Startled by a noise down the hall, she forgot the other one and ran towards the Gryffindor entrance, stopping to compose herself. Steeling her nerve, she opened the portrait and entered the common room just as the last of her housemates were exiting into their assigned dorms, laughter echoing behind bedroom doors.</p><p>Parvati and Lavender had already dressed for bed, devoured a copious amount of sweets and were drowsy enough to not pay much attention to the late arrival of their final roommate, who in turn paid neither any attention as she gathered up sleepwear and disappeared for the bathroom. There she shucked off the robe, slipped off the tattered dress, wiped away more tears, and put on her nightgown. She gathered up discarded clothing and made a snap decision to be rid of the articles by marching straight back through the common room, opening the portrait door and balled up the beautiful black robe before hurling it down the hall for it be found by someone else in the guarantee that it would be picked up and eventually returned to its owner without attention back on her.</p><p>The torn dress, clenched in her fists, would be given to Professor McGonagall along with her memory of the attack. If the Patil sisters thought they had defeated Hermione Granger they were sorely mistaken.<br/>……………………………</p><p>In the days that followed, Draco kept his eyes open for any sign of a golden haired girl resembling his mystery dance partner. The morning after, he’d been called to the Headmaster’s office and had his discarded dress robe handed back to him with the information that it was found near the Gryffindor entrance. Somehow that didn’t surprise him as much as he thought it would, but there were no other blonde Gryffindor girls in their year (besides Lavender Brown) and none that he could say in third year that matched her build.</p><p>When he gathered the robe to pair up with his dress shirt and slacks and send off back to his parents, something had fallen out of one of the pockets and caught his eye: a gleaming crystal earring. Odd, he didn’t recall the girl wearing any earrings but he sure as hell couldn’t forget those shoes. Perhaps those had been transfigured as well. He pocketed the clip-on earring, hoping that it would provide a clue to the identity of “Crystal”.</p><p>During breakfast, both Patil sisters had been called to the Headmaster’s office. It was not as strange as the venomous looks they both shot at Granger before being escorted off by McGonagall though. Curiously, he noticed that Granger had not been sitting with her duo of dunderheads, but rather with She-Weasley and Lovegood. Granger had met their vicious glares head on but as soon as they exited the dining room she fell into melancholy.</p><p>Very odd.</p><p>But why it bothered him was even more odd.<br/>……………………</p><p>When the twins were pulled from school from two very displeased parents, the entire place went up in a flurry of hot gossip. Heads leaned in close and whispered with him catching only snippets of conversation until he came up to Pansy and demanded the gossip from her. She held up a copy of The Quibbler with a sly grin. “You won’t believe this.” She said, handing it to him.</p><p>A full page article, by one Luna Lovegood, with a picture of a torn pink dress, read that the vindictive and jealous Patil sisters had attacked one of their own housemates (which house was not mentioned), shredded her dress, hid her wand, and berated her blood status in an attempt to keep her from attending the Yule Ball.</p><p>His heart plummeted into his stomach. Berating the girl’s blood status only meant one thing; his dance partner was a Mudblood-er, Muggleborn… And he knew of only one that he for sure did NOT see at the ball that night.</p><p>He turned his head towards the Gryffindor table, watching as Granger absentmindedly toyed with a necklace, reflecting the afternoon light. Just the barest glimpse, but he could’ve sworn it looked like a…crystal. He immediately jumped to his feet and left the Hall with his mind reeling. It just couldn’t be…<br/>………………………</p><p>It was New Year’s Eve but still afternoon when he managed to find Granger alone in the library-no surprise there-and mustered up what courage he had to approach her. He’d spoken with the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall after reading the article, surprising both figures of authority with his decision. Now, he just needed to let one last person know…</p><p>Carefully flipping the page as she finished, Hermione was so distracted that she didn’t hear the soft steps coming up from behind, and was immediately startled when a throat clearing cough broke the silence. She whirled around, wand out in defense-for Parvati had given up its location under the influence of Veritaserum-and narrowed her eyes at the sight of Malfoy.</p><p>“What do you want?” she snapped.</p><p>Grey eyes blinking, he took a moment to reconsider the choice he was about to make.</p><p>“I have it on good authority,” he began, putting his hand in his pocket. “That earrings are best wore in pairs.” He pulled his hand out, producing the crystal teardrop that matched the one hanging around her neck, just barely visible from the collar of her shirt.</p><p>Her eyes widened as a gasp escaped her lips. She looked absolutely terrified before turning it into anger, rising to her feet. “Go ahead then, let me hear it.” She growled. “No one else is here so just say it all and get it over with.”</p><p>He tilted his head to the side for a second before giving her a wicked smile. “Very well then. If you must know, I’ve decided to press charges against the Patil’s for assaulting my date, for damaging a family heirloom and taking her wand. I’ve contacted my family’s lawyer about having them transferred to Beauxbatons as well as assuring they pay for the dress to be fixed-but through my family’s tailor, I wouldn’t trust it to anyone else. And I’ve thanked Lovegood for her actions that evening, for it brought a mysterious girl to my side…one that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”</p><p>Hermione blinked owlishly. “Y-you’re lying…”</p><p>His smiled only broadened. “You’re stuttering again my dear. I told you, you only do that when you’re lying.”</p><p>She pointed her wand at his throat, but this time he did not flinch.</p><p>“This is just a trick! Your friends are watching aren’t they?”</p><p>“Would you kindly let down your wand? I’d rather not be hexed while trying to ask a witch for a proper date.”</p><p>“Date?” she echoed, wondering what he was playing at.</p><p>“Yes Granger, a proper date. You and me.”</p><p>“WHY?” she demanded, digging her wand into his throat, causing him to wince. “You hate me for merely existing. You would’ve never asked me to dance with you if I had shown up as I am.”</p><p>“No. And yes.” He answered, gulping against the tip pressing into his flesh.</p><p>“Well, which is it then?”</p><p>“Both Granger!” he shouted, pushing the wand away from himself. He held his hand out and offered the earring once more. “I don’t hate you. I only hate the fact that you’re so bloody good at everything you do while making me look like a second rate fool.”</p><p>“Consider it payback for all the times you’ve made me feel that way.” She snarled, snatching her earring out of his hand. “I don’t believe you. I don’t trust you. And I sure as hell am not agreeing to a date. Nice try Malfoy, but you can’t fool me with pretty words.”</p><p>“If you don’t believe me, ask Professor McGonagall.” He crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. “I doubt she’d lie to her favored student.”</p><p>She stormed past him, putting as much distance between him and her by dashing straight up to Gryffindor tower, where Harry and Ron and Ginny were seated in the common room, curious and concerned for her flustered state and wet eyes. Clutching the earring in hand, she told her friends what transpired on Yule, followed by the strange encounter she just had in the library with Malfoy, and implored them for some sort of solace.</p><p>Harry and Ron were more disgusted with the behavior of their dates than they were about Draco Malfoy’s proposition, swearing that if they had known what the girls did that they never would’ve danced with them. Each one took turns shouldering the blame for not asking her to dance with them, believing the other would’ve been jealous of the other.</p><p>“What?” she asked, bewildered by their confession.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s why we decided to ask them…I mean, it would’ve been weird, right? You with either one of us, leaving the other out?” Harry stated nervously.</p><p>“Even though Malfoy’s a right git, at least there’s no worry that it messed with our friendship, right?” Ron added.</p><p>“You two…you thought it might disrupt our dynamic?”</p><p>They nodded.</p><p>“And you two…you think he means it?”</p><p>They shrugged.</p><p>She turned to Ginny. The youngest Weasley smiled wide. “I saw you two dance, course I didn’t know it was you, but he really did seem happy. And he behaved like a gentleman. If he’s asked you out, and really did everything he claimed then I say why not? You were brave enough to go to the ball after what happened; surely you can be brave enough to have a date with him. Even if you don’t feel the same about him afterwards, at least you gave it a shot.”</p><p>“Yeah, you tell us if he tries anything.” Harry sternly ordered.</p><p>“We’ll get him good if he does.” Ron gleefully agreed.<br/>…………………………</p><p>That evening at the Great Hall, Hermione could hardly concentrate on eating dinner, practically feeling the steely grey gaze of a certain Slytherin across the room. She had gone to her head of house and demanded the truth and been shocked beyond words at the revelation revealed in return. Malfoy had indeed filed a lawsuit against the family, had indeed sent the dress off to be repaired by Madam Malkin herself, and had indeed insisted the twins be expelled from their school.</p><p>Now she sat, conflicted over his actions and her hasty denial of it all, guilt washing over her sense of appetite and mind reeling in curiosity. Malfoy now presented himself as something other than a bully and a prat, and it threw off her perspective she’d developed over the years, trying to make sense of who he really was. A leopard simply did not change its spots. Unless, it wasn’t a leopard at all…</p><p>After dinner, a fireworks display was scheduled to ring in the new year, and once again curfew had been extended to allow the students to partake in the event. Several watching venues were established around the castle, in various towers and balconies warded for safety and doused in warming charms. A professor was charged as chaperone for each section and escorted their groups to such places for viewing.</p><p>She slipped away from her group, deciding that she’d take this time to continue weighing her choices, and pick another book from the library to pass the remainder of their time off from classes. However, as she approached her usual table she found it occupied. That familiar head of platinum blond hair was unmistakable.</p><p>“Malfoy…what are you doing here?”</p><p>He slowly lifted his head from the book he’d been loosely paying attention to. He’d been waiting for her to return to her little sanctuary, and his gamble had paid off. She was predictable in this way.</p><p>“Reading. Isn’t that what the library is for?”</p><p>“Why are you here?” she repeated, emphasizing the last word.</p><p>“I thought the library was public domain. Refresh my memory if the rules have changed.” He smoothly replied, closing the book.</p><p>“Knock it off. You know this is my spot. Why are you in it?”</p><p>He looked around the tabletop and the chair in which he sat. “Funny. I don’t see a label. Are you sure you have claim to this particular piece of furniture?”</p><p>She huffed in frustration. “Never mind with you! You’re never going to change.” She spun on her heel, determined to never spare him a second thought ever again when she felt her wrist grasped and pulled tight. She was suddenly face to face with the Slytherin, glaring up at him with a protest building in her throat when he spoke.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Hermione Granger. I’ve been unfathomably disrespectful to you, and unfair in my judgment of your character, and can only offer my sincerest of apologies.” He declared, his eyes piercing into her own. “I have insulted you, undermined your abilities, and mocked you for your choice of friends. But never have I laid a hand upon you, nor done something as cruel as what the Patils’ did. I may be a prat at times, but I am a gentleman. I’d sooner strike myself than destroy your mother’s dress…and I’d never disarm a witch and leave her defenseless.”</p><p>Hermione felt her heart lodge in her chest, seemingly unable to continue pumping, her feet growing roots into the floor as the boy who bullied her mercilessly was now making atones for his previous actions.</p><p>“Please, forgive me.”</p><p>Her hand trembled as she tried wriggling it free from his grasp. “W-why? Why are you saying all this?”</p><p>He took a step closer to her, nearly chest to chest. “Because I thought I was mean, I thought I was powerful, and I thought was brave…until now. Until I learned of a girl betrayed by friends, supported by a misfit, who was brave enough to still go to where her enemies were, and dance with someone she had every right to refuse…and through it all hold her head up high and not let it demoralize her… I could only aspire to have even half the strength you possess.”</p><p>He placed her hand on his chest. She felt it thunder rapidly.</p><p>“It was a pleasure to dance with you that evening…and I’d love the opportunity to do it again. In fact, I’d love the opportunity to do anything with you…if…if you’ll allow me.”</p><p>Heat flushed from the center of her chest, spreading to the tip of her toes and the top of her head, coloring her cheeks and jostling her heart back into erratic thumping. Her mind drew blank, her tongue went numb, and lips went dry. She pulled them in with her teeth, dampening them with her numb tongue, trying to get her mind to kick back into gear.</p><p>All she could do was nod. But nodding was not enough for the young aristocrat. “Tell me.” he said. “I need to hear your answer.”</p><p>“W-what’s the question?” she asked, honestly at a loss for what this encounter was leading up to.</p><p>He expelled a breathy laugh. “I’m asking you to be mine. At least, to allow me the chance to woo you and hopefully succeed into making you my witch.”</p><p>“Oh.” She said, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Uhmm, I suppose so…” A beat later she added, “Just know that you’ll have Harry and Ron to deal with if you mistreat me.”</p><p>“Of that, I have no doubts. I’d expect nothing less from those two, but they’re going to have wait quite a while for that day to come.”</p><p>A shrill whistle followed by a ruckus blast erupted in a colorful explosion in the sky, illuminating the library in bright light, startling the two from their dreamy trance. Laughing nervously, they turned their attention to the window and watched the dazzling show, slowly entwining their hands together as they stood close, taking in the realization of what path they had just agreed to venture on with together.</p><p>Draco turned and looked at his curly-haired witch, smiling brightly. “Hey,” he said, pulling her attention from the finale to meet his eye. “Happy new year.”</p><p>The clock tower bell chimed.</p><p>“Midnight.” She whispered.</p><p>“So it is.” He replied. “There is one tradition I’ve never much taken stock in, but I would like to try, just to see if it actually does bring good luck.”</p><p>“Oh really?” she played along, feigning ignorance.</p><p>He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little sprig of mistletoe. “You ran off before I even got the chance.” He said, holding it above her head. “But now, in the name of tradition and for the sake of good luck, I’m hoping to double my chances for success.”</p><p>And so, at the stroke of midnight and under the mistletoe, Draco leaned in and brushed lips against hers, pulling her in close with his other hand, feeling her own rest on his chest as she rose on her toes to meet him, hoping that the silly tradition was true.<br/>…………………….</p>
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